


On the Cusp

by Dragonbat



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Killing Joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-30
Updated: 2008-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonbat/pseuds/Dragonbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of The Killing Joke, Barbara reflects on her past and future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Cusp

**Author's Note:**

> Time: Immediately after Killing Joke
> 
> Thanks to Dana for the beta!

**On the Cusp**

Oddly enough, she hadn't thought of Batgirl as a vocation. It wasn't exactly like she'd tried crime-fighting for kicks—if she had, she probably would have gone home and burned the suit the first time Batman had glowered at her in all his chiropteran glory. But the costume had never driven her in the way it had driven Bruce. In fact, she'd retired the suit after Slash, and, apart from one final mission undertaken as a special favor to Bruce, she'd never looked back.

So why, Barbara wondered, as she lay on her hospital cot, staring at the ceiling, was she looking back now? Thanks to Joker, that path was barred to her. But she hadn't been Batgirl for months. So why was this what she now missed most?

She avoided looking at the wheelchair as she sat up. As long as she stayed in the bed, she could still pretend that nothing had happened. So long as she remained sitting or lying down, she could forget. But the moment she wanted to leave the confines of the mattress, the illusion would vanish. It would mean using the chair—that or have someone carry her.

She bit her lip. This was _so_ stupid! She knew that there was still so much that she could do, even without her legs. She didn't need to walk to be able to run a library. She hadn't won a scholarship to college at age sixteen, nor graduated first in her class because of her gymnastics. _But the gymnastics had been there as an extra-curricular activity. Not to mention track, dancing, judo… Batgirl._

She shook herself. Then, slowly, deliberately, she inched closer to the edge of the mattress. She could have asked for help in getting into the chair. She nearly did ring the call button. But… _Batman wouldn't._ She gritted her teeth. THIS was what she'd hated about working with Batman. No. This was the downside of _admiring_ Batman—the constant adherence to an ideal nobody could attain… except Bruce somehow _did_. It was insane! She still didn't press the button, though.

It seemed to take over an hour, but she somehow got into the chair. On her own. She tried to push herself forward, grunting in frustration until she remembered to take the brake off. She rolled over to the window and looked out at the night sky.

"Hey, Bruce," she whispered, "are you out there?" She doubted it. This hour was right smack in the middle of his nightly patrol. He had other people to save, other maniacs to stop. Besides, unless he had her room bugged—not that she'd put it past him—he wouldn't hear her. "Don't answer," she added, just in case. "I don't really need to talk to you. But if you're listening, I remember when you told me how it happened. Why it is you do what you do. I didn't really understand it then… but I think maybe, I'm beginning to. When something comes along and shatters your world, you can either let it break you… or you can make it your mission in life to create something positive out of it. I'm scared, Bruce. I can say it to you, because I know you're _not_ going to hug me, or tell me it's okay, or do something else that's going to make me lose it." She ruthlessly suppressed the quaver in her voice. "I'm not going to let it break me. Joker got my legs. He's not getting my life. I don't know what I'm going to do, yet," she admitted, "but one thing's for damned sure. I'm not going to quit."

Abruptly, she turned, and wheeled back to the bed. Batgirl might be gone, but the fiery young woman who'd once mouthed off to Batman lived on. And nothing was going to stop her from regaining her independence. Not Joker, not the wheelchair, and not her memories of what had been. It was time to face the future. And she was ready.


End file.
